Changed
by attempted
Summary: I tripped, then looked up to see the boy from 2 laughing at me. I tried to punch him, but he grabbed my arm. "Nice try, sweetheart."


I ran as fast as I could. "Don't look back", I kept repeating in my head. What was I running from anyways? I felt like I was running for ages and figured that whatever I was running from must be far enough behind me that I could take a break. In a split second, I felt a knife on my neck, slicing it. I screamed as I guzzled my own blood.

"Hanna!", My eyes shot open. "Honey, it was just a nightmare."

"It felt too real." I choked out, shaking my head. I have been having the same nightmare every year since I was twelve. Even my mom's comforting words can't calm me on reaping day.

"I know Hanna, but you're only fourteen.", my mom said. "You're name is only in there three times. Other girls have their names in their dozens of times. Three out of thousands."

"You're right, but that doesn't change the fact that everyone has a fair chance.", I let out.

My mother looked around the empty room as if she didn't know how to reply. She sighed. "Well, let's get ready for the reaping. Its already 11 o'clock."

I grabbed my dress that was laying off the back of a wooden chair in the kitchen. My mother had been working on it all week. I tried it on and gasped. It was more beautiful than any dress I had ever worn, even though I had only worn a handful of dresses in my life. It was light blue. Fitted at the top, with a loose skirt that fell just below my knees. A thin belt, the same color as the rest of the dress, was tied at my waist. "Thank you, mom, it's beautiful!", I said, hugging her and smiling.

"You're very welcome, honey." she replied, smiling even bigger.

I continued getting ready. Brushing out my long, brown hair and fashioning it into a braid down my back. My mother wore a deep purple dress that fell to her shins and let her dark hair lay naturally, brushing her shoulders.

We got to the square to sign in and while we waited, my mother began to cry. "What's the matter, mom?" I asked.

"I know that this is so wrong, but I wish your father could have seen another reaping day. To see how beautiful you are and how you've matured this year."

My father was hung after being caught stealing grain to feed us. He would make us fresh loaves of bread every day and my mother would sell what she sewed to buy fresh fruits or something of that sort. I took all of that for granted at the time, but I wish I hadn't.

"I do too, mom, trust me."

It was our turn in line. "Next", I heard a man say. I walked up to the desk. "Give me your hand.", he told me. He took a blood sample from my finger and I watched "Hanna Shaftly" show up on the screen. "Go to your section.", he said.

I walked to the section for 14 year old girls and stood by my friend, Misty. I knew Misty had gotten tesserae this year, but I didnt know how many times her name was in the reaping bowl.

"Ah hem!", Dottie Keeler grabbed the microphone. "Welcome to the reaping for the 92nd annual Hunger Games!", she announced, making hand gestures and smiling as if she had no idea what this all meant. "Let's not forget our manners. Ladies first." She walked up to the bowl, making small hops every time she took a step. This year, she wore a bright orange wig, light pink face makeup, and green lipstick. I do not understand the Capitol's "fashion". she reached her hand into the bowl, stirring around the slips of paper, then plucking one out of the bunch. I held my breath, knowing this would be a death sentence to whoever she calls. Keeping a grin on her face, she called "Hanna Shaftly!"

All eyes turned to me as people cleared the way for me to walk on stage. I stood frozen, my eyes wide with disbelief. What just happened? Is this for real? I snapped back to reality, swallowed hard, and made my way up to the stage.

"Onto the gentlemen." Dottie repeated the process, this time reaching from the boys' bowl. "Collin Rach!" A boy stepped from the 16 year old section onto the stage. He looked about 4 inches taller than my 5'3" and had dark brown hair. He was slightly tanned, and thin but had muscle. He wore a gray long sleeved shirt and black pants. "Ladies and Gentlemen, I give you the tributes for the 92nd annual Hunger Games!", Dottie exclaimed. I was trying not to cry as everyone stood silent, feeling sorry for Collin and I, but feeling relieved that it wasn't them who was called. I looked at Collin and I could tell he was doing the same thing, but not a very good job. His eyes were puffy and swelled with tears.

Dottie led us through big doors, down the hall, to a room with nothing but two chairs in the middle of the floor. She motioned for me to sit down. "Your company will be here shortly." She led Collin down the hall as I sat in the empty room, waiting. About five minutes later, I heard someone close the door and my mother ran in to the room and hugged me. "Hanna! I can't believe this!", she went on hysterically. "I want you to know that I love you and I will miss you until you come back home as a victor." She squeezed me and I swore she was trying to break my back. She released just enough to let me speak.

"I love you too, mom, but you have to face the fact that I wont be coming back." We both cried, hugging until a man came in to tell us time was up. I tried to stay strong for the last minutes I had with my mother.

No one else came to see me. Not even my friend, Misty, who I have known since I was seven. Why wouldn't she visit me? She must know she'll never be able to see me again.

Collin and I were taken to a train. We sat across from each other, but didn't say a word. I watched the last of my home, District 9, disappear behind the train. Finally, the silence was broken. "Who came to visit you? If you don't mind me asking." I looked up to see Collin looking at me. I noticed that our eyes are the same shade of brown.

"My mom." I tried to fake a smile. "Just my mom.. How about you?"

"First my parents, then my uncle, but they weren't such great visits. No one stopped crying long enough to say anything." He broke eye contact and let his eyes meet the table. Neither of us said anything else until Dottie came in to introduce our mentor to us.

"Hanna, Collin, meet Cadence.", Dottie motioned to Cadence as if we wouldn't remember her. She won the Hunger Games two years ago, when she was 17.

Cadence smiled, "Nice to meet you!" She looked at us both, examining our every feature. Her smile faded and I knew that she thought about how we would end up like the tributes she mentored last year. Dead.

"Well, can you give us some tips so we aren't the first people killed?" I didn't realize I said anything until Cadence focused her attention to me.

She opened her mouth like she was about to say something, then sighed. I imagine that it would be hard to think about the previous games if I were in them, too. "Get what you can from the cornucopia. If you want to get something further in the center, but it has already turned into a bloodbath, forget about it.", she used her hands to demonstrate what she was talking about. "Take off and run." I made a mental note in my head.

Collin cocked his head and looked at Cadence impatiently. "Can you tell us where to run to?" I can tell that Cadence didn't appreciate his attitude.

"Find water." she replied. I nodded to show that I was listening, then Collin did the same.

After about an hour of watching Cadence mumble things back and forth to herself, we arrived at the Capitol. I went up to the window and saw people cheering. I waved at them, which made them go wild! I looked behind everyone and saw the Capitol Building, where we would stay. It looked even more amazing than it did on T.V. Then, I transitioned my sight to the Capitol in general. The shops, the buildings, the people. Everything looked so remarkable! The streets filled with people in crazy wigs and makeup. Buildings that are so high I can't even see where they end. I couldn't have dreamed of anywhere more amazing.

The train arrived at the Capitol Building and we were taken to our rooms, on the ninth floor.

_**[UNFINISHED!]**_


End file.
